


All The Small Things

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: ? - Freeform, Australia, Australian Culture, Bugs, Call of Duty - Freeform, Coffee, First Love, Lidcombe, M/M, Memes, Misunderstanding, New South Wales, Part-time job, bugs everywhere, memes everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a friday night, John didn't want to go out because he is dead tired from his shift at the Four Seasons Hotel. Comfortable with his working class wages, he wouldn't want anything else but normalcy. A mint hot chocolate changed that though, he got duped into a meeting with another man with bad music tastes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once In A Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> first story i ever posted on the interwebs but bc im a huge memelord 2k16 don't take everything seriously this is like kingsman without the anal sex

_He took off his jacket but that didn't make him feel any cooler._

That was the end of winter for John Hornsby and his optimism. In the morning he was called over to check the ventilation systems for the 'nap room'. On his way he checked the weather on his smartphone and was in for a huge disappointment. It felt hotter now that he knew the week would be in average, a boiling 35 degrees. Down south the people will be melting at 45 degrees, so they placed air conditioners in every house to prepare the southerners for the heat. He wished that would happen for the inner-west cities. S'ppose he should be grateful for living near the east coast where the breeze is cool. After graduation, John began studying hotel management at Randwick College, hoping to quickly land a job and support his parents. He had chosen it after many hours of thinking, and his mother expressed disdain at his choices. She wanted him to go to university, preferably USYD. Instead, he told his mum that he could continue to study civil engineering as a hobby.

The place where he's currently interning at is the The Four Seasons Hotel. The monolith is a famous spot for tourists and especially business people travelling in and out of Sydney. It's a rather large one so they had all facilities you could think of, childcare, casinos and arcades. Also a dining restaurant included for the customers willing to fish out more dollars. Other than that, the town Merrirang wasn't known for much, other than its Magpies territory. When he eavesdropped on his co-worker, Miss Barr, she mentioned how there used to be a Maccas in Merrirang 10 years ago, but it closed down due to its lack of business. Lack of business, at Maccas, poor fella, and KFC is just barely hanging by that they have taken out half the size of the building, leaving only a spare table and chair left. The only renowned casual eatery in Merrirang is the only Vietnamese food restaurant. His mum, bless her soul, celebrated his birthday by eating dinner there every year. Whenever she came in, a lady with a thick bob cut would greet her with "Yeerahwayla! Over here". It's Yirawala, his mum's father came from the Northern Territory, and yes they are Indigenous Australians, though commonly mistaken with Torres Strait Islanders. Somehow, he wished his father had a more unique surname. Hornsby is up North and part of 'The Shire', an upper-class place in Sydney, Miss Barr went to Hornsby Girls High School after all.

Finding the remote for the air conditioner, he gave it a test try to see whether the lifesaver would work or not. It did, and he was extremely happy yet he knew the air conditioner is reserved for nap times. Walking out of the crudely decorated room, he spotted his co-worker Miss Barr. He could not for the life of him remember her first name. "G'd morning, Barr" he greeted, wiping his sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "It's Ashley" Ashley repeated for the fifth time. "Right, morning Ash!" he smiled, and Ashley shook her head.

He greeted the guests as they walked down, while he's wheeling down carts full with bath towels. He rubbed his nose with his sleeve, it was a habit which had stuck with him since high school. Puberty was not kind to him oh no, he had multiple acne breakouts. This led to many people pointing out his oily skin, which kickstarted his nose wiping habit. Eventually, the acne faded but the scars stuck with him. The scars left by his body image issues, he wasn't the class target for bullying but he knew where his place is (was). He knocked on the white door to Room 237, and an elderly couple opened. "Hello here are the fresh towels you have requested, which colour would you like?" he smiled genially, elderly people were always much nicer to him. The elderly grandma stood there and remained silent, only staring holes through his head. "I'm sorry, my wife doesn't talk to the help, yellow would be fine" the man responded after a minute of silence. John wondered if they were tourists, or just had extremely snobbish behaviour which even the people living in the shire can't mimic. Afterwards, John went down 4 levels on the elevator to vacuum the casino's carpets. On his way, various guests had entered, either chatting on their phone or remaining quiet through the journey. There was one couple whom had stood out to him, they were dead set on pashing each other while he was in front of them. Privacy is only for plebeians after all.

"It's going to be alright, I saw good reviews on zomato" she chirped in, Natalia's trying her best to use her honey voice to sweet-talk him into going to Newtown. She even got Evans on video call, and he's convincing him in another way. "It's friday, for gods sake you shouldn't be stuck at home watching reruns of Friends!" Natalia once again bashed his favourite show. "John, I will suck on this wooden dick if you go to Newtown" Evans raised his hand, holding a wooden dildo. "No, I'm not going" John replied, covering his face with his hand trying to hide his blush. "I'm not going to suck on this dick if it's not going to make John come!" Evans was obviously screwing with him. He could hear Natalia cackling over on the phone. "I'm not going, it's like 8pm here" John lived about 1 and an half hour away from his workplace, which had to be in Yagoona. He wasn't complaining because the staff was very kind, for example, Miss Barr gave him a gold star for wiping Rosies' diarrhea. His shift ends later than normal though, at about 7pm on a really good day.

"Damn I wished I had a car so I could drive you there" Natalia joined in while Evans was waving the dildo around, as if he could tempt him into taking the train all the way to Newtown. "If only you two were free on sundays" he retorted, he knew that Evans and Natalia were practicing Catholics. He would like to give a story about how they bonded over in high school but they met each other on Call of Duty. He stopped playing years ago because he grew tired of first-person shooter games, instead he got into third-person shooter games. John told Natalia and Evans to hurry up and hang up before he catches the train home, and Natalia was about to say something but John decided to just hang up. He was standing on the platform going to Redfern and changing trains there. He shrugged on his blue vest, trying to keep warm as the temperature got cooler at night. It was past rush hour for the office workers, which explained why there weren't many people on his platform. Except for one guy, he was wearing red Beats headphones and nodded to the beat of that song by Blink 182. Eventually the train arrived, and John decided that he should treat himself for a day of good work.

When John got off at Lidcombe, he walked over to the nearest Michels in order to purchase a hot cuppa coffee. It didn't matter that it was like 9pm, he loves to drink coffee, all day and everyday. He ordered a regular cappuccino with a shot of soy milk, after 10 minutes of waiting in line. Due to the controversy involving Gloria Jeans, quite a number of people migrated to Michels for their coffee, even though Gloria Jeans coffee tasted better. Even red beats dude was in line for some coffee, that's how repulsive Gloria Jeans is. Despite the time, Michels business is still blooming at this late hour and the cashier lady asked for his name and he simply replied John with a h. He stood outside of the queue and waited for his coffee to arrive, and he heard the lady call out his name. He swiped the coffee cup without taking a look at it, he assumed that hes the only one who ordered a hot drink in the summer (he did see the headphones man walking forwards though). He took a sip of his lovely drink, not cappuccino. No hint of soy milk either, was it even coffee? He scrunched his nose up at the taste of mint and chocolate decimating his tastebuds like what the Romans did to England. It's not terrible, but if he was a very considerate person he would say that. It was fulla shit. He felt like he could just dump it, but he didn't want to waste his worth of 5 dollars, 5 dollars for a regular cappuccino! He wondered what kind of trauma did the person who ordered it had gone through to enjoy the taste of chocolate mint.

In a sullen manner the brown haired man sipped his coffee while holding his breath so he could tolerate it more. It's a difficult task, but nevertheless he had finished the drink by the time he had gotten home. Ah, Newtown, his friends must be enjoying themselves chatting up drag queens and petting dogs. The dogs are so fluffy and cute, he wished Rooty Hill would have a lot more of them. What he got instead was loud noisy dogs whom act like you had taken a shit in their food bowl. No fluffy dogs in R Hillies to cheer him up then. At least he still a nice big Panasonic at his dodgy unit, along with dvds of Friends. Nat and Evans were X-files and Supernatural freaks, so they took every chance to make fun of those tv sitcoms he enjoys. John is still glad that he never told them that Chandler Bing was his first sexual awakening.


	2. I wore cologne to make the feeling right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally meets his end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments appreciated <3

A spectral of light emerged through the empty spaces of the curtains, which meant it is 7am for him.

Roasted peanuts taste a bit like coffee beans without the bitterness, and he really should stop inhaling these peanuts like as if they were skittles. Okay sue him, he isn't much of a chips and lollies guy but John always love a good crunchy nut (Evans would whistle at that). To tell the truth, he is munching on peanuts while on his 15 minute break to ensure the taste of the chocolate mint is completely wiped out. Taking a gulp of his water, he heard footsteps near him and when he just listened closely he heard the clicking of Miss Barr's heels. Damnit, he forgot her first name and it was only a day ago that she had reminded him. He raised his hand in a mock-salute as she walked away, in this way he stepped quickly out of the tea room and tried to avoid a conversation with her. He didn't want trouble this early in the morning, and surely that was just a reflex of his to avoid people right? To himself he added: "And this, is why you have no friends".

By the time afternoon came and the lunch rush hour has gone past, John felt his knees give in before him and he slid down against a wall. Scarcely able to move beneath the weight of his thighs, heavy like lead, John find himself building up motivation to knock on Room 237. He knocked 3 times, counting each time verbally out loud. No reply, no grunts nor screams to indicate there are people present inside the room. If he were a good employee he would say: "Excuse me, Mr & Mrs _, am I interrupting anything?"...And John has the memory of a goldfish, therefore the names of the elderly couple have left his brain and out of his ears. "Excuse me is there anyone there?" he knocked again, and almost got hit by the door as it opened.

The elderly lady once again stood in front of John and he braced himself for silence until the man stepped in and asked, "what do you want?". Quite gruffly actually, maybe they were having a bad morning. "I'm here to clean up, or do you want me to do that later?" John simply shrugged, he didn't have a lot to do in the morning on a Saturday. The man opened the door wider and stepped aside to let John walk in, his white shirt is impeccably ironed and if he had hair his hair would be immaculate as well. The lady sat on the couch with its distinguished quilted style, she watched him like she was looking for flaws in his work. The brown haired man ignored her watchful eyes, picking up the glasses and refilling the mini fridge. When he knelt down to pick up some leftover candy wrapping, he heard the woman whisper to her husband in an unfriendly tone. "That's an aborigine boy isn't it?" she asked, cupping her hands around her mouth, yet John could still hear her because her husband is hard of hearing so she had to speak loudly anyway. "Probably, half-caste maybe?" he offered, feeling like he didn't want to discuss the hotel attendant's race in front of said attendant. The air in the room felt suffocating to John, so he took his cue to leave immediately and before he did, "yes I am in fact biracial" he quipped. He fiddled with the edge of his shirt and walked along the blue hallways. The maroon carpet is a contrast against the light blue walls, there's also minimal decorations except for a selection of Aboriginal dot paintings. Hah, what nerve they have! The paintings only reminded him of the micro aggression he had witnessed and further incensed him. Pale sunlight highlighted the hydrangeas in the flower vases, they have a variety of flower vases decorating each end of the corridor. Also there's a complimentary mini statue of a koala beside each elevator. As John took the elevator down to ground level to grab breakfast for the guests, he patted the koala on the head, smiling at its gold surface and cheeky wink.

There's nothing like a countdown to when your shift ends, and thankfully John only had to work a half day on Saturday. Ready to rip off his name tag and not tear his nipple in the process, the other co-workers were piled up in the cramped changing rooms and not speaking to each other. John shifted his eyes and tried to not make a noise as he took off his shirt and changed into his casual clothing, a red tee with a baseball cap. He opted to shove his vest in his bag because outside is hellfire. With accuracy John's steps timed exactly right when his shift had ended at 2pm, and when he stood outside the bell in Town Hall rang to indicate the change in time. Unsuspecting tourists sitting on the steps under the bell were shocked and jumped up, while the pigeons remain in their positions because pigeons in Sydney are not scared of anything.

5 years ago, the cafe known as 'Michel's Patisserie' is just a mediocre version of the big house franchise Gloria Jeans. He remembered that all the cool kids hung out at Gloria Jeans in Westfield and chatted amongst themselves amicably. The fact that he had just used the phrase cool kids made him cringe. Tugging off his baseball cap with a hawk logo on it, John is on the train to Lidcombe and ready to splurge his gold on coffee at Michel's. He heard horror stories about Gloria Jeans from his commerce teacher in high school, about how they would allegedly financially support the Australian Christian Lobby and forced exorcisms on children who happen to be not straight. Regardless, he steered clear of Gloria Jeans because he doesn't enjoy the company of popular teenagers, ever since he took the TAFE course he had been buying his coffee from Michel's Patisserie. After a deep conversation about whales in Call of Duty, he found out Evans used to work in Michel's at Lidcombe.

The bright sunlight reflected off of the white roofs, almost blinding his eyes as the train sped by, and slowed to a stop. The white staircases with gaps in between, so people walked steadily and quickly up the stairs and moved into the station with blue and white walls in horizontal stripes. The weather and the lighting provided by the sun made the walls seem more welcoming to his eyes, surrounded by shrub and bush it felt like a perfect photo opportunity. On the way out you could see palm trees, and several Victorian terrace houses. This time, the Michel's Patisserie cafe isn't filled with people since it's just past the lunch rush hour. After reviewing the menu with its 'tantalizing' products as stated, he decided to purchase a mango chiller until he felt a finger tap him on the shoulder. John looked up and heard nothing, it was probably just someone accidentally bumping into him, but then someone yelled "oi!" behind him.

John turned around and saw collarbones, then he moved his eyes upwards and saw a face. The stranger took off his red Beats headphones and he noticed there's a silver ring on his index finger. The man has an olive skin tone and wore khaki shorts along with a white tank top and thongs. They both stepped to the side to avoid blocking the queue and John looked away from the stranger, trying to not meet his eyes which is a bad habit. "You took my drink yesterday", the man has a voice which almost sounds nasal. "Pardon?" he squeaked, not used to confrontations.

"Yesterday you took my cuppa hot chocolate mint" the stranger said. "It had my name on it, John, and...you ordered a cappuccino?". John placed two and two together in his brain and a wave of cringe washed over him, he felt like a dramatic cinematic montage of a man in his thirties reading a letter and looking up screaming "oh my god!" repeatedly, as percussion and violins play in the background. He couldn't create a response and just said "oh" to the tall guy. Then he kicked himself inside.

Stranger was obviously looking for more than an 'oh', but the incident of the mint hot chocolate is played over and over again in his mind while O Fortuna plays. "It's okay" he heard him say, because he wouldn't dare to lift his head up and look at him in the eye. John is practically staring at his shoes in embarrassment, and there's no shovel to dig himself a hole up and crawl in there to die. "I'm sorry" John says, to his Nike shoes, pausing, then he brought himself to stare at the man's collarbones. Oh gosh, no he had to look up further, so he opted to chin-level vision. The man had a nice jawline, it's like God had looked favourably onto his parents side. "I didn't mean to scare ya" the dude rubbed the back of his head, he had a guilty look on his face, oh dear, John probably looked like he's intimidated, which he is but he didn't want anyone to feel bad for his mistake.

"Oh no, no, I'm sorry for taking your cup, I didn't see the name properly" he stammered, fiddling with his curly hair. John felt like a dipshit, he was holding onto his baseball cap with so much strength it would probably snap. "You see, my name is John as well so…", O Fortuna is still playing in his mind. raised his eyebrows and quirked his lips, "oh! hahaha", he laughed and John realised when he laughs his eyes turns into a crescent shape. Head cocked, John asked, "what is so funny?".

"I'm sorry, it's just both of us are named John, oh but you can call me Johnny" responded Johnny. "Ah, uh, I'm sorry for taking your cup again, do you want me to buy you another one?", he forced himself to speak using sheer determination to see that this conversation is over. "I'm fine with that, how did you like your hot choco mint?", the taller man walked to the line and was about to place a hand on Johns' shoulder, but then decided not to half-way. If John had knew more classical pieces, another dramatic one would play in his mind as he remembered the taste of the vile liquid which had infiltrated his sense. "It's kay" he replied, trying to put on a straight face and not visibly gag. It didn't work, he noted how Johnny's face fell at his reaction so he needed to do damage control. "What's wrong with chocolate mint?", Johnny sounded like a kicked puppy. Obliged to press on about his gripes with chocolate mint, John said exasperatedly "I like to taste the individual flavours of my drink, and chocolate mint ruins that for me because the mint overpowers the chocolate, so there's no sweetness, mint should be a compliment to chocolate but instead I feel like I have the death of Christmas in my mouth".

Putting on his Caribee backpack, Johnny turned to the cashier register saying, "well looks like I'm going to save myself from coffee withdrawals, and Christmas" he quipped with a beaming smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aussie aussie aussie oi oi oi


	3. Snap Out Of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john & johnny talk, they drink coffee, ppl r happy

_He thought Johnny looked like one of those statues at the water fountain, not the naked Artemis but the Dionysus one where there's a turtle on his lap. Australian people are weird._

He remained poised while taking a sip of his iced coffee, fingers stained by the froth in the process, as he had dropped the lid earlier. “So”, Johnny begins, “What’s your age again?”. At that John averted his eyes, he had assumed the stranger, Johnny, is at least 4 years older than him. “I’m 20 years old” he responded, wiping his hands on his pants. 

 

Johnny leaned over and hummed, “I’m 23, graduated 2 years ago from UTS”.The shorter man perked up at the name UTS, “what’s your degree” he asked with unusual curiosity. “I did Bachelors of Civil Engineering, I got an ATAR of 98.5, surprised I did that well considering I was doped up...” he stirred his coffee, trailing off to a halt. “Oh you’re 3 years older than me” John tried steer the conversation away from the subject of high school. “Oh, you’re 20? I thought you would be 18 at most” (John had been mistaken for younger than that so he wasn’t miffed). 

 

First: He had found out that Johnny is half Chilean, his father and mother are divorced in relatively good terms. “It didn’t bother me that much because I was 4 at the time”, he replied after John’s sympathetic look. “I still get on well with my parents, my little sisters are so adorable too! Here’s some photos” he whipped out his iphone 5 and scrolled through 2000 photos. “The little one is Sarah, and the crying kid is Matilda”. The little girls worn white long dresses with laces at the end, and both had bowl cuts. They looked nothing like Johnny though, their pale skin and hazel eyes are a contrast against Johnny’s olive skin and onyx eyes. 

 

John made a funny little snorting noise through his nose when he noticed there’s a photo of a fallen bookshelf. “Looks like a disaster” he said, then taking a sip of his mocha coffee. Johnny closed his phone immediately and shoved them into his pockets, “that was an accident, my co-worker pushed me against a shelf and I knocked it over” he explained sheepishly.

 

“Where do you work?” asked John, he wasn’t sure what exactly does a civil engineer do.

“Oh in a book shop, it's like a massive labyrinth” he replied - twirling his fingers in a spiral. A lightbulb lit in John’s head, “ah the Gould’s Arcade”, showing signs of recognition on his face. 

 

“Yeah, you been there?”

“Twice, I hate the smell”

“You don’t like books?”

“No, I like reading books but I prefer my dad’s library to the Gould’s Arcade…” he spoke softly.

“What, your father owns a library?”

“No, uhm, how do I explain this... He has a massive room filled with books that it’s as big as a library”

“I wish I had a room filled with books, Proust, Camus, Kafka…” Johnny looked up, imagining the possibilities. “So your father is loaded?” he asked.

John didn’t bat a lash but internally he is squirming, there is a reason why he doesn’t talk to his father much.

 

_ 2 months ago... _

 

**I smull liek beef:**

_ “I don’t like Chandler that much, I think he’s too sarcastic” _

**Evans Peter:**

_ “But you think Joey is funny?” _

**I smull liek beef:**

_ “He is though! the part when he tries to learn french-” _

**Evans Peter:**

_ “Oh my god that part gave me an aneurysm” _

**I smull liek beef:**

_ “Ay John, you like Chandler whaddaya uh thinka of him?” _

**No this is Patrick:**

_ “He’s only sarcastic because his dad left him” _

**Evans Peter:**

_ “LMFAOOOOO” _

**No this is Patrick:**

_ “Like mine” _

_ I smull liek beef, Evans Peter are typing... _

  
  


“How do I squat?”, he left-clicked rapidly, but instead he shot his arrows at the ground and watched his ammo go from 74 to 63, “oh motherfu-”.

“I furond ongho”, was Natalia’s reply but her skype call is lagging so badly her voice became static noise. “Wait, your dad left you?” John could hear Evans hands clasp his mouth in surprise, and looking disoriented. He promptly ignored the question, Evans was more of a concerned friend than he’d thought.

 

Back to the present.

He raised his phone up and pretend to look startled at the time, “oh dear, I have to go nowhere now”, stopping the discussion they’d been having. He took the mocha coffee with him, wiping at the table with a napkin. At the corner of his eye he saw Johnny giving him a puzzled look. “Sorry, I will pay you back later for the coffee” John muttered, offering his hand for a handshake. “My name is John Hornsby, by the way” he said. Johnny took the hand and shook it with a firm grip, “my name is John Reyes” he smiled at the coincidence of their same first names. According to his movements, it seemed to Johnny that John is in an absolute panic, which was a lie. Johnny is a good guy, he honestly does enjoy his company but he hasn’t ever spoken to a good person like him before, it made him nauseous. “I’ll see you later then” and with that, John walked briskly to take the train to Redfern. He rubbed his nose again self-consciously, and almost tripped over when he heard Johnny yell out “I’ll be working at Gould’s Arcade tomorrow at 10!”. 

 

The streets were deathly still by the time he had gotten to Rooty Hill. Everyday he would see different colours depending on where he went, at Central he sees grey, at Lidcombe he sees green, so much green. When he’s home, he sees yellow everywhere. It must’ve been because Rooty Hill is a small town, very isolated from the busy towns. The silence of Rooty Hill is a characteristic he admires, every time without fail he would walk home in silence. His mocha coffee in hand he stepped over the long overgrown yellow grass, the footpath seemed unnaturally luminous somehow. When he got home, he would make dinner for his mum and him, this is his daily routine. Eventually, his mum would come home 2 hours later and they would eat dinner in silence. Casually communicating with grunts and gestures of the head. To the outsider, it would seem that the mother and son are distant from each other, but John knew that his mum loved him, which was better than the yachts his dad offered.

  
Laying in bed, John wondered how it is possible that a person’s face could be stuck in his mind at night time. All these unpleasant recollections of his father had been overridden by the relaxed attitude of Johnny. Against his will, John felt a strong pang of affection towards the older man mixed with nervousness. Just his tilt of the head, that look and gesture was enough to make John feel like telling his life story. It’s been awhile since John felt this comfortable around a person before. A few days earlier, he managed to muster up the confidence to ask the manager a question about the dinner tables. Anyhow, he’d been made fun of by his peers in high school, the habit of avoiding speaking to people had stuck with him till now. Now, it was different because he felt a fondness in his heart when recounting the conversations between him and Johnny, he felt excited because it’s his first time making an effort to speak to a stranger. He thought: why not make it a thing? The subject of visiting Johnny when he’s at work was brought up, and he contemplated the cons and pros of going to Newtown to see him. Well, he had nothing to lose really, he’d already hit rock bottom. Guess his sunday is going to be spent hanging around in Newtown.


	4. Maria is adorable.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny really likes cats and John finds out that both of them are incapable of small talk.

_ Natalia linked him to a service called ‘Dirty Rotten Flowers’ which apparently delivers the most hideous flora to your most despised enemy, at the cost of 5 dollaroos. “Anyhow, let’s send a bouquet to Yeevans (that’s her way of pronunciation) and you can write the card” she insisted. “I don’t know what to write” he answered back, scrolling through the selection of weeds. “Quote a book, draw him on fire, or eternal damnation” she finished off mimicking an italian accent. John chose eternal damnation.  _

 

Turns out his GPS was unnecessary because Newtown is one of the most easiest places to navigate through, and Johnny’s workplace is located on King Street. He turned left and continued walking, passing by overpriced cafes as well as boutique stores for niche fashion such as, corsets. He couldn’t describe it all he saw was a whip, garter belt and leather collars with spikes on them, it looked like a BDSM store to him. Besides that, the store is popular for its local black cat whom is often spotted napping in front of the windows. The feline will glare at anyone who disturbs its sleep, including the dogs. 

 

He passed some dodgy alleyways with gratuitous graffiti walls, illuminated by the blue neon lights from the galaxy burger joint next to it, people were sitting in the blue lounges with food which looked like it belonged in the universe of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. A few beagles shuffled past him and he resisted the urge to kneel down and pet them. He did bend down to pet the brown husky near the cinemas, then the canine sneezed on him. “Sorry” he muttered before walking away, continue the long descension down King St. The entrance to the Gould's Book Arcade is marked with a sign outside and a large stack of comics dating back to the 1960s. They even had the discontinued issues, but the writing was very bad so it was discontinued for a reason. Failed superhero comics and self-help books were carelessly stacked on top of each other, not in any order. The store was books, books galore and smelled like it. He could spot the dust in the air and the dim lighting with the teared off aisle signs would make it very difficult for a newcomer to search any books. They were 10 sections, and as well as 3 levels. The red paint is flaky and peeling off the stairs, people made sure to not slip through the huge gaps when walking up. He’s going to be totally honest, only people above the age of 30 visits the Gould's Book Arcade. All the good books are gone and there’s only trashy 1980s romance novels left, the only good thing about it was he felt like this was an archive. An archive of history, the worst part and some good parts. He screamed internally in delight when he found the collection of all the national geographic magazines, for only two dollars per magazine. He could buy the whole lot, but then information dated back in the 1979s about evolution were not entirely accurate, though he admits that it’s interesting to catch glimpses of the ideologies in the past.

  
  


John walked around, squeezing himself in between the aisles and trying to find Johnny at the same time. There was a click upstairs and a figure of a young man could  be spotted. He glanced up and waved at the familiar face, meeting him halfway. Johnny tucked an unruly curl sticking out behind his ear, he opened his mouth and no sound came out. “I...I didn’t you..I didn’t know you would be coming today” he spoke, brushing off his scrambled words.

 

“Sorry, are you busy right nAOW?” he asked.

Johnny looked at him for a moment and shook his head. “Nothing to do round here” he smiled politely. A couple of books in hand, Johnny was reminded to laminate the other copies of Phantom. He shuffled past John and tossed the books aside into a giant pile. John stood there as he stared at Johnny, wondering what else to say. Suddenly, Johnny brought out pine clean and a couple of paper. Anyhow, John was too distracted by the bead of sweat making its way down Johnny’s chest because of the lack of air conditioning on a 30 degree day. The fans were off for some reason and the receptionist lady looked like she’s about to tear her hair out. Johnny twitched his eyebrow as he is very aware of his state, secretly glad John didn’t mention his new fashion style called ‘sweaty pig’. 

 

“You can look around” Johnny said rather sharply. “Politics, Military History and Marxist books are upstairs, right next to the Marxist guy with the glasses” he pointed out a man in his forties with huge glasses upstairs. John thought about telling the truth, he isn’t interested in buying any books from the arcade at all and he desperately wants to go to the Metro where air conditioner resides in. Instead he opted for, “I’m fine, do you want me to get you a towel?”

 

“Har har, well I got about 3 more hours on this shift so I would need four towels please” he quipped, glancing at vintage manga covers. “Oh by the way! Have you seen the cat at Enmore Tafe?” he asked. John blinked and shook his head, “no I haven’t been there before”.

 

“Well I went there one day and there was this tuxedo cat and suddenly it jumped on my lap” Johnny gasped, his jazz hands indicating his excitement over the affection of a cat. “It chewed on my earphones but that doesn’t matter, her name is Maria”.

 

“Do you want to go see the cat?”

“Can I? Well I don’t know, she might not be there”, Johnny felt he would be a bother to the owner.

“I’m sure the cat is still there” John is not sure at all, he just want to talk for the sake of continuing the conversation. Then, he remembered Johnnys’ red beats headphones, the large ones with the stars on it! 

“Where’s your headphones?” John asked.

“Oh they’re in my bag” Johnny replied, pushing apart the books to shove a card in between.

“May I-, May I try them on? Like..with music” he spoke, more so to himself than to Johnny. 

“That’s fine, I’ll go get it, oh here you go”, Johnny handed John the headphones and John paused, “music, right, let me get my iphone” he tossed John his phone and went back to putting the books in alphabetical order, his fingers lingering over the yellow stained pages. 

 

There were no chairs around so John stood near Johnny, swiping through his playlist with a great deal of interest. Besides the Blink-182 songs, and no offense to dear Johnny, but he did not like their music so he skipped half the songs in the playlist until he got to Depeche Mode and The Cure. While being set on fire from the burning summer sun, he looped ‘lovesong’, on top of that he felt he missed out on a lot of 90’s hits. 

 

John handled the Beats headphones with great care, because once he had longed to purchase one but his circumstances have let him to grow up putting the needs of his mother above his. Ever since his parents separated, his father went to find great fortune in Western Australia while his mother remained a hairdresser. He never asked for gifts since then nor go out of his way to seek his own pleasures. John turned over the phone and the phone case is decorated with bunny stickers out of a children’s book. He resisted his smile at that. 

 

“I’m done” Johnny’s tired voice interrupted his thoughts, the brown haired man looked like he had been drenched. John handed him back the headphones without saying anything, but he felt the urge to grab a tissue and slap it on Johnny’s face. The two men grabbed their bags and headed out of the shop, with Johnny nodding a goodbye to the receptionist. It was still sunny like it’s 1pm outside, but it is dinner time for everyone. “This is it” he thought, thinking that they would both go their own ways.

 

That came true as Johnny stood there for a minute and waved goodbye, he turned around and started towards the station. John’s mind is churning its’ clockworks as he tried to come up with something to stop Johnny in his tracks. He took out a scribbling pad from his bag and quickly wrote down his phone number. After that, he took off running after Johnny in the sweltering heat, backpack bouncing up and down on his back, kind of hurts actually.

 

“Wait!”, building up anticipation, Johnny slowed down as John caught up and stood in front of him, huffing and puffing. There was a spark between them, somehow Johnny felt amused and endeared to the smaller man in front of him. The brightness in John’s eyes began to increase its intensity, and Johnny realised for the first time that John’s eyes are amber coloured. Without the baseball cap, he could see his own reflection in his clear eyes. 

 

“Here’s my number” John finally spoke, and Johnny inclined his head. He took the piece of paper from John’s hands and didn’t bother to read the digits. “Your number?” he inquired with a slight doubt, he had thought this meeting is just going to be a one time thing. “Is that okay with you..to give you my number?”

 

At that Johnny laughed and his lips quirked up to a smile than a smirk like he usually does, “It’s up to you, you want my number as well?” he continued.

 

“Well if that’s okay with you too….”

“I guess so” Johnny wondered if anything would come out of them exchanging numbers. 

“Yea, we could talk about music” John was prepared to give Johnny an hour lecture on Blink-182. 

“You’re sopping” Johnny said in an amazed tone, and John was also prepared to take an hour long shower. 

“Well...I gotta go!” he exclaimed and proceeds to run in the opposite direction, away from the station. John had meant to take a train to Redfern but he didn’t want to walk there with Johnny, he already mustered all his energy to speak to him today. But that was the first step, to meeting someone, whom is just as socially introverted as John is. Then again, he could pick up some weeds before taking the train home, just to congratulate Evans on his promotional to manager. Some dirty rotten weeds akin to withered birds of paradise.


	5. HERE'S JOHNNY

_ When Evans had received his flowers from Natalia and John, he resisted the urge to slap their faces. Nevertheless, he cried for the first time, surprising everyone in the vicinity. From John’s perspective,  Evans rarely cries and when he does, it’s ugly. It’s all snotty and mouth breathing, along with hyena like noises.  _

_ Natalia hugged Evans while patting him on the back. “There, there, my little gorilla,” she whispered in his ear.  _

_ “Fuck you guys,” he managed to choke out. “Seriously, fuck you two but I LOVE YOuuu,”he screeched from the top of his lungs.  _

_ The party for Evan’s promotion was great. People danced to pop music and danced all night to the best song ever. John brought in tortilla chips with salsa sauce, and placed them between the caesar salad and the spiked coffee in a jug. The party was at Michel’s, so they all sat down on wooden chairs and drank up all the coffee on the house.  _

_ “Happy birthday”, someone drunkenly slurred.  _

_ “I love you too man,” Evans responded. _

_ “I’m your father” _

  
  


Johnny woke up breaking in cold sweat. Delirious, he panted for a minute and fell back onto bed. “I’m fucked,” he said out loud. He palmed at his sheets idly, trying to find his phone. The thing is, he just had a dream about John. It wasn’t a wet dream because he had trouble getting hard ever since he got hit by a bus. In general, his libido went down like he did on that very special day. Even now that he has recovered a lot over the past year, he wasn’t allured by the neon lights at the nightclub, long bleached hair highlighted by fluorescent orange. The rhythmic beat travelling through everyone's bodies and pulsing through their veins. He did not miss the stale beer breath, and fuzzy feeling in the morning on a stranger’s bed. Rather, when he stepped in Scary (a popular nightclub with a particularly bad name), he could be imagining this but, he felt suffocated in the same manner if there’s a boa constrictor around his neck. It slithered and curled around his body, the scales left goosebumps on his skins and he saw blurred faces, twisted their necks around to stare at him. Lucy in the sky with diamonds, but Lucy is strangling you and yelling ‘Get out!’, and all you could do is to puke blood. Needless to say, he didn’t feel welcome, so he hightailed out there and went to Woolies. He bought a packet of shaving razors and soap, the cheapest ones he could find. Next day, he shaved his moustache which resembled a feather duster. Still, whenever he walked outside the gutter were overflowing with snakes. Against his wishes, he’s thrown in an Irvine Welsh novel, if Welsh had wrote books about men lusting after socially awkward men with pretty eyes. 

  
  


With his eyes closed he mindlessly grasped amidst his comforter, grabbing his charcoal coloured coat. Sitting up, he tied his coat around his waist in a sloth-like fashion, eyes squinted at the sunlight with a perpetual frown on his face. Splashing his face with some cold water at the sink, he wiped the water off with a giant red towel, more like slapping the towel against his face than actual wiping. The towel was then slung over his shoulders and he made his way towards the kitchen, each step waking him up and opening his eyes wider to view the world as it is, absolutely nothing. Now, if you’re a nihilist and often has bouts of existential crisis along with night questions such as “what is the answer to life, universe and everything beyond? why am I alive? why didn’t the bus just end me? does the bus driver hate me? does he hate me? or is he a she? is she a hot woman?”. Man, Johnny loathed himself to the core and just can’t wait for the earth to open and swallow him up, then his sisters can inherit his beats headphones. 

 

“I know I just woke up from having wild sex with John in my dreams, and the correct thing to do is to call him up and make that dream a reality,” Johnny said. He poured himself some Special K’s and dumped custard milk, spilling some on the mahogany table. He dunked his face in the cereal bowl, absorbing the nutritious fibre it brings him, swallowing is for inferior beings. “I’d rather dunk my face in cereal milk than call John,” is what he would say but he is gargling on the cereal milk instead. 

 

“See, the thing is, people with my kind of personality tend to end up in the same place, dying from syphilis or getting hit by a bus and never getting laid again,” he said to the pseudo camera. John is a fine specimen, but he isn’t fine enough for Johnny Jr to wake up and tap that ass. Sorry, but the amber eyes have to try harder than that to get him, well, hard. “It’s been a while anyway, like a long time ago in a galaxy far far away I had a beautiful girlfriend, and we shagged everyday like an Austin Powers movie,” allegedly his girlfriend had huge breasts but he can’t remember anymore. 

 

Dunking his face in cereal milk is a terrible idea, he would not recommend it to anyone, not even the bus driver whom hit him. He grabbed a fistful of tissues and wiped his face vigorously enough to peel his dead skin off. Now that breakfast is done, time to brush his teeth. Remember kids, always floss.

 

Daily hygiene out of the way, it’s time for him to make sense of his character. He works part-time at a crumbling bookstore, therefore he shall spend his time reading books before going to work. Sliding down the comfy green chair, he brought out a true classic to entertain himself for a hour or so. The Magic School Bus. Carlos is his favourite character because he’s latino, like him. Remember, this is the Chilean Johnny Reyes perspective, not John’s for once. 

 

That was an incredible book, time to take the bus to Newtown, ahh the glorious 412 (this is not based on true events). The 412 is a lovely bus filled with elderly people who detest the millennials. On his way to the bus stop he bought chicken fries for lunch and prepared himself to be glared at by old grannies. He has his red beats headphones, blasting out Blink-182 music, no matter what anyone says their music is good. He supposes his casual posture and ignorance of how much the generations before him have sacrificed in order for him to purchase a red beats headphones is an eyesore for the older people. Then again, he doubt that anyone of them had been hit by a bus before, his back still hurts from time to time but that’s nothing he can’t handle. The pain is more of a stinging pain, it also feels itchy at the same time. Therefore, it is very important that Johnny doesn’t do any strenuous exercise, so he had tossed out his weight lights ages ago.

 

It is recommended that he sits down for the duration of the hour long bus ride to Newtown, but he has given up on explaining to people that he had a brain injury and multiple broken bones. The thing is, he’s ashamed to admit that he was texting at that time. Distracted by the messages from his ex-girlfriend, the temptation to reconcile with her had blocked out the oncoming sound of a vehicle coming towards him. Before he knew it, all the temptation was gone and he’s lying in a pool of blood, scrapped hands holding onto a broken phone. She never spoke to him again, didn’t visit him at all. It was as if suddenly, the accident had cut all ties between them. 

 

He was 19 then, and he dropped out of university. For a few years, he had to endure physiotherapy. His mum taught him how to write his name, albeit shakily. On the other hand, his sisters were crushed by the news. They were so hurt, because he wasn’t the big brother they were used to. However, he kept on attending the sessions with the neurologist as well as the psychiatrist. He took some delicious pills named fluoxetine hydrochloride…

 

He is also trying to stop lying about everything. He lied to John that he had a bachelor in civil engineering, and spoke less than he had intended to, because he didn’t want to sound inarticulate. Sarah and Matilda always told him that he’s a chatterbox, with the jazz hands and all.  Now he has trouble with his wrists, sometimes he has to put on a wrist brace. The velcro wrap and cushioned feeling became normal to him. A bedpan became a necessity for a year. If the physical pain hasn’t reached him yet, the emotional one sure did. When his mum comes in the room. “Are you okay?,” she asked. He usually shook his head, but she would eventually have to clean the pillow casing and raise an eyebrow at the wetness.

 

Johnny looked outside at the window, just boring dry yellow grass and torn marxist posters, nothing new. The paper slip containing John’s phone number long left at his home, sitting alone by itself on the coffee table.  _ My worst performance yet, he fell for my faux friendliness _ , he thought.

_ I’m trying to pretend that everything is okay, and that nothing matters, because in the end I will die and leave no legacy behind, except for money to pay for Matilda and Sarah’s school expenses. _

Johnny ended up switching songs to ‘True Survivor’, while watching his bag very closely because it’s 3pm. High school kids from Marrickville takes the bus and what do they do? They talk mostly, but sometimes the brats steal. Yeah, he doesn’t have many prized possessions except for his Iphone 5. It’s only a matter of time before he calls John. Not really, Johnny held on to the yellow monkey bars.  _ I want to call him but I also don’t want to because I’m too lazy to be committed to a relationship, and obviously Hornsby here, is in love with me. One day, I might marry him, today is for recuperation for my soiled pride and dignity.  _ The bus passed the glorious mansions in Earlwood, the giant gleaming spotless white houses overlooking the rivers, alongside dogs strolling down the yellow footpath which is also spotless. There’s well maintained gardens, and cerulean hydrangeas in full bloom. A few mango trees here and there, but all of those houses had white picket fences. Some mansions are a few stories high, with spacious backyards and marbled balconies. Accompanied by two garages, shiny enough to see your own reflection in it, with at least one Camaro parked in front.  _ I have always wanted to live in a house made out of marble. Married with 2 kids, maybe a dog and a cat,  _ he contemplated. At what point does being settled down, have children, pay your taxes has become the end game, the goal for all adults? Isn’t it just fine to swallow your medication and soldier on through each day,  _ death thee may not taketh me yet. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew one more chapter to go

**Author's Note:**

> i like chandler


End file.
